


Sirius Tries to Kiss Remus

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Feels, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s), Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: Every New Year, Sirius makes a resolution to kiss Remus, but it never comes true, until one year under the fireworks...he might just get what he's been looking for.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 112





	Sirius Tries to Kiss Remus

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @simplysirius for daily fics and fanart! I also take requests :)

Sirius hated New Year’s resolutions. Mostly because he was always too much of a chicken to actually do anything to make his resolutions come true. Remus would spend hours and hours writing his resolutions down on an endless roll of parchment, skipping out on the New Year’s butterbeer and fireworks exploding over the frozen lake so he had time to write everything down before the clock hit midnight and the rest of Hogwarts welcomed the New Year. Even James made resolutions, though his list was short and mainly involved finding new ways to gain Lily’s attention or attempting to lay off the pranks for a little while to show off his upright maturity; the latter only lasted a few days before James’ fingers ached from not casting some kind of hex and he just had to dye Snape’s hair bright pink.

Since third year, Sirius made the same resolution over and over again, never daring to write it down for fear of James or Remus finding it, but he inked it on the inside of his skull, tattooed it on his brain, just in case he forgot. But he’d never be able to forget.

Every time he looked at Remus, hear his light laughter, smelt that terrible Earl Gray tea he made every morning before class, Sirius remembered it.

Resolution number one: kiss Remus Lupin.

It didn’t have to be a New Year’s kiss, all sloppy and tainted with butterbeer, a kiss they might not even remember in the morning, and it didn’t have to be a good kiss either, maybe with too much teeth and not enough lip, but just a tiny, regular little kiss on the lips that told Remus how fast Sirius’ heart pounded in his chest every time their fingers brushed or their eyes lingered a moment too long.

It’s all Sirius wanted. All he needed. And yet, every year his resolution suffered the same fate, lost in the burning embers of the fireplace, buried under layers of mud beneath the Whomping Willow. Even now, in the midst of his sixth year, he was no closer to fulfilling that wish, no closer to grabbing a handful of Remus’ sweater and crushing their mouths together.

He looked at Remus now, sprawled out on his stomach against the floor, his head tilting just a little bit to the left as his hand dragged a quill along a piece of parchment. Remus’ ankles were crossed, his trousers slouching down to reveal a pair of blue and green argyle socks, the kind that every old man on the planet owned. Sirius would never be able to pull them off, but they suited Remus perfectly.

“Are you almost done?” Remus asked, glancing up from his paper. The candelabra overhead bathed him in a soft orange glow, illuminating his golden ringlets like a gentle crown and pooling into his eyes like warm honey. The light caressed his face, kissing his cheeks and settling on his lip, so perfectly pink and scarred that Sirius nearly jumped off the bed and smashed their mouths together.

Instead, he looked down at his piece of parchment, empty, with not a single splash on ink on the page. “Yeah, almost.”

Downstairs, the other Gryffindors cheered as the clock hit ten minutes to twelve, no doubt splashing their mugs of butterbeer together and tying their boots to head outside for the fireworks. Sirius loved watching the fiery display each year, but right now, stomping out into the cold was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d rather watch Remus as he moved about this black and white world, like an explosion of colors colliding with each other, screaming in every hue of the rainbow.

Remus put down his quill and pulled himself upright, stretching his arms above his head. There was absolutely no chance Sirius could ignore gazing at the exposed strip of skin on his hips as Remus’ sweater tugged up. This is what Sirius had; little glimpses of places he wanted to touch, kiss, love, and that would have to be enough.

“How many are on your list?” He asked, trying to peer at Sirius’ parchment.

“A couple,” Sirius answered, pressing the paper close to his chest. “What about you?”

“Fifteen.”

“There’s no way you can make fifteen resolutions come true.”

Remus propped a hand on his waist. “Yes, I can. Like…here, I can definitely get top grades in all of my classes this year. And what about this one? Read two hundred books this year.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, hoping to hide the admiration glimmering amidst his pupils. “Those aren’t resolutions, Remus, you know those things are going to happen.”

“Oh yeah? Then let’s hear yours,” Remus challenged, raising his eyebrows in anticipation.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Sirius hid his face with his parchment, pretending to search through a long list of resolutions, only hoping that the crimson flush staining his cheeks would fade by the time he reappeared from behind the paper. “Let’s see…hm…well, there aren’t many good ones.”

Remus scoffed, “you’re so full of shit,” and before Sirius could react, Remus bounced onto his bed next to him, peering over his shoulder. “You didn’t even write any down! What have you been doing this whole time?”

“Nothing,” Sirius lied, definitely not about to admit that he had spent the last hour staring at Remus, sitting on his hands at times to keep to himself. How could Remus possibly expect him to focus on anything when his tongue stuck out of his mouth during moments of intense resolution concentration? Sirius was too busy thinking of a hundred and five ways that he’d kiss that goddamn tongue.

Remus sighed, pushing a quill into Sirius’ hands. “You have to write something down. It’s tradition.”

He was right. It was tradition for Sirius to make his one stupid New Year’s resolution, blow it into the wind, and act surprised three hundred sixty-four days later when it didn’t come true.

“Resolutions don’t work,” Sirius pouted, refusing to take the quill.

“Not with that attitude they don’t.” God, Remus and his stupid, sweet smiles. Sirius would burn cities to the ground for that smile. “C’mon, you have to have at least one thing you want to do in the New Year.”

God, was there ever. Remus was right there. Just inches away. He could do it. He could kiss him, and, if things went terrible, which they probably, would, Sirius could jump out the nearest window, hopefully fall to his death, and never have to show his face around Hogwarts again.

Sirius gathered all the air in his lungs that he could handle. This was it. “The only thing I want to do in the New Year is…”

Honey eyes. Golden hair. Gentle smiles. Giant sweaters. Hot tea mornings. Nights spent by the fireplace. He could lose it all.

Without Remus, Sirius had nothing. His heart would be homeless. He couldn’t do it.

“Learn how to ride a bike,” he finished, the courage deflating from his chest.

Remus blinked, and maybe it was just because Sirius was squinting to keep his tears at bay, but he could have almost sworn that Remus’ shoulders slouched, just a little bit, like he was bracing for impact but nothing happened. “You don’t know how to ride a bike?”

“No.”

“I’ll teach you this summer then,” Remus nodded, going to great lengths to keep the wavering smile on his face. “I have an extra bike in the garage.”

The thought of warm summer days spent pedaling around Remus’ small town wasn’t enough to thaw Sirius’ frozen body. He was so close, but everything was the same.

“The fireworks are going to start,” Remus cheered, sliding off the bed. “We better hurry. Come on.” He reached over and clasped Sirius hand in his, but before they could run down the stairs, Sirius ripped away harshly, leaving Remus’ hand cold and lonely.

They stared at each other, not quite sure what had just happened. Maybe Sirius had tripped. Or maybe, judging from the way he buried his hands in his pockets, he didn’t want Remus to touch him.

“Pads?” Remus said quietly, afraid his voice would break if he dared say another word.

Sirius’ eyes were cemented to the ground when he mumbled, “I can’t watch the fireworks.”

The electricity of the New Year evaporated from the air instantly as Sirius’ words pierced Remus’ skin.

“Why not?”

“Because I…because I can’t, okay? I just can’t.”

Standing in the dark next to Remus. Not being able to hold his hand or bury into his sweater or kiss him when everyone else got to kiss their lovers as the clock struck midnight and the bells rang out. Feeling Remus next to him, but not being able to touch him. Sirius couldn’t do that again this year. His heart would explode.

Remus crept closer to him, shuffling along the floor. “You can’t watch the fireworks? Or you can’t watch them with me?”

Sirius shook his head, unwilling to answer, but Remus pressed closer still, until Sirius was staring at a pair of beat up slippers and could smell the sugary aroma of cocoa and tea.

“Which one, Sirius?”

“You,” he finally whispered. “I can’t stand there next to you without…” Sirius clamped his hand over his mouth, already saying too much. His eyes squeezed closed, desperately trying to keep from crying. Nothing welcomes the New Year in like a wave of fresh tears.

Remus gingerly pried Sirius’ fingers from his mouth, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. “Without what?”

Sirius had no choice but to look at Remus now, drowning in his amber eyes, lost in the way the starlight filtering in through the tall windows danced on his face. Sirius was just a tiny part in a beautiful constellation, but Remus was an entire galaxy, burning so brightly he blinded everyone else.

“Without kissing you.”

Remus’ eyes widened for only a moment before fluttering closed, at the same time that Sirius finally lost all restraint and reached up on the tips of his toes to press their mouths together. At the feeling of Remus’ soft lips on his own, Sirius gasped, reeling a little and falling against Remus’ chest. But Remus was there, ready to catch him with two strong arms, pulling him tighter against his body, hands on his hips. Sirius’ fingers knotted in his hair, refusing to part their lips and come up for air, refusing to let go of this feeling.

Even when their room exploded in vibrant reds and blues and greens from the fireworks outside and the walls shook as the clock rang twelve times, Sirius and Remus couldn’t bring themselves to notice. They were too busy learning each other’s bodies, laughing as they fell back into bed, mumbling hushed _I love yous_ and _happy New Years_ to each other.

Happy New Year indeed.


End file.
